


Tarrantara! Or, The Duty of Slave

by executrix



Category: Blakes7, Pirates of Penzance, Pirates of the Caribbean (Movie)
Genre: Crossover, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-04-29
Updated: 2011-04-29
Packaged: 2017-10-18 18:56:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,797
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/192140
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/executrix/pseuds/executrix
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Too bad that Tarrant was born in a beastly month such as February.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Tarrantara! Or, The Duty of Slave

1\.   
"How about a spot of shore leave?" Dayna asked. "It's pretty quiet in this Sector, and..." (she lowered her voice to a whisper) "I'd like to buy a birthday present for Soolin."

"Buy one for me an' all?" Vila asked, without much hope but feeling obligated to make the effort.

"Why? When's your birthday?"

"April eighth."

"Too bad then, it's August seventeenth, ask me in another six months if we're still alive," Dayna said. "What about you, Tarrant?"

"Birthday?" Tarrant said. "February...ah, late February."

"Where are we, anyway?" Vila asked.

Orac grated into life. "We are within two hours' voyage of teleport distance from Zen's Pants."

Tarrant bit back a groan. "Oh, you don't want to go there," he said, striving for casualness. "Overrated, you know. Only got Two Towels in the Hitchhiker's Guide. I think we should go somewhere else. Anywhere else, really."

"It's the closest habitable planet," Orac said.

"Not always a recommendation," Dayna said.

"Clearly, you have upset Sir by your ill-judged and Terminally insensitive remark, which must arouse unhappy feelings in the form of recollection of the operating system of his quondam vehicle," Slave said, adding, sotto digite, "Bee-otch!"

A plasma bolt, albeit a very small one, raked Scorpio's side.

"What the hell was that?" Dayna said. "Slave, you reported that there was no Federation activity within eight hours at Standard by Four."

"Much as a stopped clock at infraluminal velocities is right twice a day, Madame, even my humble capacities provided you with correct information. That vessel is not Federated."

"Who is it, then? Scouts for a Reality Vizcast?" Vila asked.

"The Bad Ship Cubic Zirconia," Orac said.

Tarrant facepalmed. He did it again, realizing that old habits had taken over, and in the interim he had responded to the demand for "Parley!" over the tannoy by opening Scorpio's docking bay to admit a shuttle. A moment later, a vision in top boots, ratty velvet, and maquillage raced onto the flight deck.

"I'm Captain Jack Sparrow, and I'll be your pirate tonight," he gargled. In one hand, he held a sparkler, spitting jewels of heat; in the other, a cherry bomb. Perched on his shoulder was a monkey. In one of its wizened paws, it brandished a cherry tomato. They wore matching Pirate-and-Monkey outfits (from a Vogue pattern), although if the monkey was wearing eye makeup you couldn't tell. "Give me what's mine, or I'll blow ye all to Kingdom Come!"

"And go with us," Dayna said. "Hardly very practical, is it?"

"Anyway, what've we got that's yours?" Vila asked.

By way of answer, Sparrow took a couple of steps forward, pointing the sparkler at Tarrant. The monkey leaped onto Tarrant's neck and smashed the cherry tomato on his nose.

"Dayna, tell him about your parents," Tarrant said, his eyes narrowing.

"At a time like this? What's that got to do with anything? All right, I can't even remember my Mum, but just this last year Servalan murdered my father. And when Soolin was eight, she saw Federation thugs slaughter her Mum and Da."

Jack froze, the match inches away from the fuse. "You're orphans?" Seeing her opportunity, Dayna clotheslined him. The bomb went flying harmlessly into a corner of the deck and the match sputtered out. Jack stood up, rubbing his face. "All right, I deserved that." He looked at Dayna closely--she could almost have been Anamaria's daughter--but, counting backwards, he decided that that couldn't have been his fault.

"In my humble opinion, Sir," Slave said, "That is the worst pirate I have ever seen."

2.  
Dayna relieved Jack of his blunderbuss and cutlass, and kept him, at clipgun-point, on one of the flight deck crash couches.

Tarrant chucked the monkey back at Jack and wiped his nose.

"What was that all about?" Vila asked.

"Oh, nothing, it's very dull, you wouldn't want to know," Tarrant said. "And he won't have time anyway, now that he's getting back in his shuttle AND BUGGERING OFF..."

"I'm the Dread Pirate Sparrow," Jack said to a disappointing lack of terror. "And, many years ago, a young lad named Del signed his indentures as cabin boy and apprentice pirate. Then he ran away. Many a long year I've hunted for him, but there's nothing that means more to a pirate than his Word, or the Pirate's Code we all live by."

"I didn't want to be the cabin boy in a pirate crew, and if I did it certainly wouldn't be a Division Four outfit like yours, Jack. I mean, do you want to know why you couldn't make piracy pay? Everyone knew except you. Every time someone pulled that old orphan wheeze, you fell for it. Even in the Federation, ships are not universally crewed by orphans. Civilians with at least one parent are in the majority."

"If you didn't want to fly the Skull and Crossbones, then why did ye sign the Articles?" Jack said pettishly. He was not amenable to critique, even well-meant.

"I thought it was the FSA application," Tarrant said. "Pilot training..."

"Space Cadets..." Vila murmured.

"It was a natural mistake, wasn't it? And then I realized the full depths of iniquity to which you exposed me. I...I canceled my articles of indenture and finally did go to FSA."

"And deserted," Orac said. "Do we see a pattern here? Perhaps a touch of Enlistment Deficit Disorder?"

"They have drugs for that now, y'know," Vila said. " And they're practically never fatal either."

"Del, me boy, I've missed you." (Jack did not find it necessary to add that he would have greeted with pleasure any trained pirate who hadn't marooned him recently.) "And I wouldn't wonder if you missed the free life of the Spanish Main too. Come with me, Del! Finish out your indentures!"

"And that's exactly what I'll be when I'm done, and you know it," Tarrant said.

"How much time has he got left?" Vila said. "I mean, if he did the bunk when he was 20, then it would only be a few months. You could borrow him...we could spare him for a few months."

"That's just the thing, mate. It's not till he's 21 years old, it's till his twenty-first birthday. And, going by birthdays..."

"He's only five and a little bit over," Slave said miserably, but obligated to candor by Robotic Law.

"Join me, lad! Follow the Pirate's Code! Feel the deck roll beneath your feet! Hear the splash as the fat-arsed crew of the broad-beamed merchantmen walk the plank! See the gold and the diamonds and the flashy trulls! Booty calls!" Jack finished, with an oratorical flourish.

3.  
The bell sounded for shift change. Soolin emerged from the hold, where she had been monitoring the glycolene levels. Avon yawned, entered the flight deck from the sole private bedroom, and surveyed the scene. "Well, now, if that were a complete sentence with a subject and an object, it might be rather interesting." Much as Soolin had eagerly perused Jack's coiffure for hints, Avon drank in the sight of his symmetrical features and gorgeous mouth. Then he turned away. What if the day came when there was only one more kohl pencil left, and they were locked into a struggle from which only one could emerge?

Jack smirked. They were eyelash to eyelash, and the other fellow blinked.

The monkey, now disarmed, jumped onto Avon's shoulder. "That's a handsome jerkin your friend is wearing," Avon told Jack. "What color would you call that? Maroon?"

"No I wouldn't," Jack said. "Say, now, would ye be the commander of this vessel?"

Avon preened. It is, it is a glorious thing to be a pirate king.

"Merchantman, be ye?"

"Not precisely," Avon said. "Anyone care to tell me who he is and what he's doing here?"

The rest of the crew gave a precis. "Then he's not from the Federation?"

Jack defended himself against such imputation. "The fair lass is a gunfighter, eh? And the dark one's swept up on the tide of events? But the rest of ye have fine credentials in the life of crime. Why waste your time on politics when there's loot to be had?"

"I don't think much of rebellion," Avon said. "But as contrasted with respectability in the Federation, it is comparatively honest."

4.  
They returned to Xenon Base to plan their next move. The ordinary rotation of chores resumed.

"I never know what to cook when it's my turn," Dayna said.

"Egyptian food, lass, now there's the ticket," Jack said. "I'll help ye brew up a tasty slumgullion."

"Thanks! Have a look in that cabinet," Dayna began.

Tarrant walked past the galley.

"I think we still have some Cairo pans."

Tarrant scowled--was he never going to be allowed to hear the end of that?

Beneath the counter, Jack gargled something that might have been, "Got any lentils?"

Dayna shrugged. "You have to look in all the boxes," she said. "I mean, you never know what's going to turn up, do you?"

Tarrant gritted his teeth.

5.  
"D'ye know where we should go next? Woebegone Island! It's not on any chart...you must find it with your heart," Jack said. "It's an island that you can only find if you know where it is," Jack said.

"Yes, there's a lot of that about," Avon said, plunking the monkey down on the floor.

"What did he say?" Soolin asked. She hated meetings.

"It's called the Emerald Isle, 'cos that's where you find Doubloons," Vila said. "The woman are strong, the men are pretty, and all the dreams are above avarice."

"Are you suggesting a raid? I don't see what we can do with just a skeleton crew..." Avon said.

"Arrrr!" Jack said sympathetically. "Lot of that about."

6\.   
According to the Police Gazette, the bags of gold containing a year's wages for the Woebegone Island garrison were going to be delivered on Wednesday.

Dayna stayed at the helm of the ship. The others teleported down, and diverted the guards' attention by setting off eminently harmless charges of flash powder inside metal receptacles.Each of them seized a full complement of swag, threw the bags into a net, attached a teleport bracelet, and watched the gold vanish into the ether.

"Waste not, want not, savvy?" Jack said as Tarrant ran past. "Harvest the pyro cans."

A moment later, Tarrant, his arms full, heard his bracelet crackle. "Tarrant, Vila, we'll have to break orbit," Dayna said. "You'll never guess, har har har, of course it's three sodding pursuit ships. We'll circle around and be back for you."

Major General Zukan, still on the reviewing stand from which he had planned to distribute the wages to the massed, ranked, and now brassed-off and brassless soldiery, perked up and began to whistle an air from that infernal nonsense Pinafore. For a couple of years, ever since Canon Vargas' unexplained appearance, Zukan had kept the large, red-trainered cleric on a small retainer in case any band of Alphas Who Had Gone Wrong appeared, to whom his large family could be married on the spot. Any mob that could manage a caper like that must be well-connected.

The eldest Zukan girl--the one with the pinkish-orange hair--gazed deeply into Tarrant's eyes. (She had been brought up to be extremely nearsighted.) "I can tell from the troubled lineaments of your brave, handsome young face that there is a conflict deep within your soul," she said.

"Well, yes," he said. "I mean, this sort of thing is all very good fun--not for the victim, I'm sure, sorry if I upset you, Miss--but is it the right thing to do? Should I live up to my earlier commitments? But must I honor an oath to a fiendish pirate, or a merciless tyranny?"

"Poor wandering one!" Zeeona said. "Oh, take this hand, and I will help you to a life of purity and dedication and sobriety! For, lips that touch adrenaline and soma shall never touch mine!"

The teal-tressed second-eldest descended upon Vila with a roguish twirl of her parasol. "I'm Rheeona," she said.

"I'm...not such a bad chap, really," Vila said. He had been craning his ears to overhear Tarrant's conversation with that peachy girl. "I mean, I love to hear the little brook a gurgling...listen to the merry village chime and that."

"Pooh!" Rheeona said, hitching up her skirts and walking away. "You're no fun!"

"Wait!" Vila shouted, sprinting after her. "I'm awful! I'm the Big Bad! Why, I'm so bad that...that was a porkie-pie I just told you!"

7.  
"They're nice girls, Avon. And they had a few left over, too. Maybe we could settle down there, have another base, maybe even one above ground..."

"I'll think about it," Avon said, and was silent for a long time.

"Celebrator of ritual?" Vila asked. Perhaps he would be able to finish the Police Gazette crossword before the end of their watch. "This is a long 'un...ten letters. Oh, hullo, Tarrant, hope you have a nice quiet watch."

"Hierophant," Avon said.

8.  
If Avon and Vila could just slope off to the Big Wheel, Tarrant didn't see why he couldn't have a day off at a Resort Planet. (Of course Tarrant hadn't been there at the time, but Vila had retailed this nostalgic anecdote to the point that hearing "Big Wheel" had the same effect on the Scorpio crew as "yellow crayon" on the Scoobies.)

Tarrant had previously borrowed the Danish Dentist jacket without incident (although he had thought it more prudent to take advantage of a lull in mission activity for a fast change of clothing). That emboldened him to deck himself out in the Matador Jacket for the current excellent adventure.

The side trip to Cocodrillo began well. The casino told Tarrant that a gentleman of such liberality and good humor was welcome back at any time...with a free room and drinks on the house.

Acting on Vila's instructions, Jack called out to a man in the crowd: "Fancy a jar, Vik?" Jack called, his voice rising on the last two syllables. Jack shook his head--why had Tarrant turned pale beneath the blazing heat of the Caribbean sun?

It was all downhill from there. Although Jack took a copy of the price list/illustrated brochure, Tarrant told the cute, dimpled urchin that he had no intention of making jig-jig with any member whatsoever of the lad's family. "Well, I suppose we'd best bring the shuttle back before anyone sees we've borrowed it," Tarrant said.

The urchin snatched off Tarrant's teleport bracelet and vanished into an alley.

Three minutes later, a drunken, raddled, bedizened, painted nymph of the pavement staggered out of a yet another of the plentiful alleys, cannonaded off Tarrant, and yawned in technicolor down the front of the jacket.

Before Tarrant could disentangle their various limbs, Zeeona came around the corner, at the head of a marching band. Somebody who wasn't brandishing a flugelhorn or a Temperance banner or a Votes for Women-Chastity for Men! Banner but who did have a camera snapped a picture of this obvious malefactor.

Two minutes after that, they were just in time to see the shuttle vanishing into the maw of an Acheron Limbo class towship.

"But...but..." Tarrant wittered. "I deposited tokens for three hours! It hasn't even been two!"

"Not from around here, eh?" asked a local (who, by the look of his moth-eaten sleeveless jumper, toe-sprung Doc Martens, and skinny greyhound on a string lead, might have been a distant Restal).

"Of course not," Tarrant said, regaining some of his habitual crispness. "This is a tourist trap."

"Not allowed to park anything there but copships, sonny," the local said.

"It's a blank space," Tarrant said. "I was careful not to park in one of the ones with the angry, threatening mythological figure..."

The local shrugged his shoulders and moved away, with a Parthian shot of "A policeman's slot is NOT a harpy one."

In a moment, each assessed his options. Jack realized that he was on dry land, with money in his pocket, and excellently placed to recruit a crew and then hijack a ship. "Good luck, lad," he said, moving off. "Tell Vila it was just a loan, and I'll pay him back with interest next time I see him. He can keep the monkey and welcome to it."

"Wait!" Tarrant said. "Take me with you! What about the rest of my apprenticeship?"

"You're free, Del. Free to stand on your own two feet in the shoes I wouldn't be in for all the tea in China."

"What about honor? Duty? What about the Pirate's Code?"

"Oh, that?" Jack said. "More of a Guideline really," and melted off in the direction of the docks.


End file.
